


Suptober 2019 that goes into November. And December. Maybe January at this rate. (so...and some change)

by Ismiratriforce



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Parent John Winchester, Dean Winchester Has Mental Health Issues, Disabled Dean Winchester, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Military Veteran Dean Winchester, Multi, One Word Prompts, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Suptober 2019, damn; sam gets around (sorry), i hate the dude tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2020-11-22 06:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20869943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ismiratriforce/pseuds/Ismiratriforce
Summary: Small fics/drabbles from winchester-reload's Suptober prompt list 2019! Because I, a graphic design student, didn't feel comfortable doing art for the prompts.Will I ever finish before 2019 ends? Stay tuned! There will be an attempt.





	1. Day 1: Autumn

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Yes, I know this isn't the upload you wanted. It isn't even the upload I wanted to post. But I need to stop worrying and stressing over "My knees hit the ground and my hands start shaking" (honest, I look at it when I feel like I can continue, but then I read it and hate it), so here is a creative outlet! THAT I'M EXCITED TO DO! I was so inspired by winchester-reload's Suptober prompt list for this year and since I felt that I couldn't produce quality art, something I feel that I'm barely doing in art school right now; and I tend to put myself to high standards for no reason.  
So, I guess I hope you like it? 
> 
> I also have an image to add to this but, ya girl can't figure it out, so I'll put it on my Tumblr (and maybe put it on my Twitter)!

When Cas said “Let’s move to Washington.”, Dean thought he was crazy. They’re from Kansas, where normally, you get four seasons, but Dean’s pretty sure that Washington state has only the one season,  _ rain _ . It drizzles, it’s cold, for fuck’s sake, it’s October first and it’s 29 degrees Fahrenheit, and Dean wants to move back to fucking Kansas; he just wants a goddamn tornado instead of rain, rain, and  _ fucking rain _ . Cas moved them here for a new start (retirement was mentioned somewhere), but Jesus Christ, do Dean’s joints hate their new home. (Dean’s body vs. muggy, rainy environments is not good, considering Dean loses and Dean likes to win sometimes....all the time.) They hurt and creak all the time, stairs are a nightmare at any time of the day, moving around is difficult (if Dean’s honest with himself, this was true in Kansas), his hands sometimes can’t do the simplest tasks, and Cas is trying to get him into hobbies. 

(Which, between the fall colors appearing around the middle of September and Cas showering him with love, Washington actually begins to look pretty good. Autumn has never felt so good in Dean’s life before.)

“You’re basically sitting all the time now, I know you. You’re probably bored out of your mind and bored of being bored.”, said Cas as he shoved a skein of thick, chunky, pale blue yarn with two knitting needles into Dean’s hands. “I’ll teach you how to knit. It’s relaxing and the perfect hobby for the atmosphere here.” 

Dean then called Cas crazy, again. “Have you seen these fuckers?” Dean held up his hands that were in curled positions and looked a little swollen. They were bugging him today (i.e. they fucking hurt, but Dean wasn’t going to tell Cas that) and he was a little cranky. Well, when wasn’t Dean just a little cranky?

Cas’ expression had softened incrementally and then proceeded to smush himself in beside Dean in the recliner they had by a big window. 

“Honey, it’s okay, I’ll help you.”, accentuated with a forehead kiss; those kisses never fail to make Dean melt a little. Cas covered Dean’s hands and helped him make the cast-on stitches and made a few rows; Dean loved/hated it. But Cas was thoughtful, he got chunky, chunky yarn and pretty thick needles that Dean could somewhat manage to grasp. “Looks great, sweetheart. In a few weeks, maybe I’ll help you crochet a little. I have a Winnie the Pooh kit.”

“I’d love that, Cas.” Dean truly did.

That’s autumn in their Washington home. Dean and Cas curled up inside, admiring the fall foliage from their home in the country, surrounded by forests, crafting the day away. Sometimes, Cas will throw their projects in a bag, maybe Dean will grab his cane if it’s really bad, and they’ll go outside when it’s dry and look at the trees, and wonder: how did we get here?


	2. Day 2: Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so. School slapped me in the face with a dead fish. I procrastinate and I'm lazy, forgetful. And I've been slapped with a dead fish. I'm so very behind on this, it's October 25th and I've just started Day 6. *cries inside*  
I feel so bad right now about this. But I will try to complete it. I will do my best. The draft for my art history paper is turned in and the final draft isn't due until December 3rd (*jumps in pure joy*). I just have a few midterms to do for that and then my three studios. Yay. So it may not be completed until November? Ugh, I hate myself.

“They have beautiful eyes.”

It was what their kids said every time their teachers asked what their parents looked like. Claire tended to yank her lower eyelids down screaming “Daddy’s look just like mine!”; Emma would wink her right eye closed and tell everyone that she proudly had her Papa’s eyes, then wink her left eye and yell she had her Daddy’s eyes too. Jack just said no one had eyes like their dads. Dean thought they were right and would cheer them on; Cas just told Claire to please not yank on her lower eyelids, “The skin is fragile, Claire.”

Dean didn’t think his eyes were beautiful as they looked now. Interesting, maybe, but they weren’t beautiful. They were this bright, vivid green in his younger days, but as he got older, he watched them turn mossy and become duller. Whether from the hard life he lived and the trauma he experienced, or the pain that encompassed him as his joints wore down. They were framed by deep crinkles from laughter and pain, tired lines surrounded his eyes too, and often smudges were under them. 

(Listen, three kids in six years? Dean does not recommend it. Especially not when Emma was born with the weirdest poop Dean has ever seen, and he helped when Sam was a baby, and two-year-old Claire thought to go streaking through the house while Cas was attempting to potty train was a good idea. This led to a trail of pee and what they thought was poop or diarrhea following her. Dean swears he still has nightmares about it. Why they thought the same age difference between Emma and Jack was a good idea, Dean blames it on improper sex safety and Sam suggesting weed for pain management and Cas joined Dean for solidarity.)

But Cas’ eyes? Dean thinks they are the most beautiful thing in the entire world. The perfect colors of blue, the shades and tints, and all the layers; why do you think Dean has always nearly swooned when he looks into Cas’ eyes? Yes, Cas has eye crinkles like Dean and lines around his eyes, but Cas wears them, they don’t wear him. They’re apart of him and Cas welcomed them when they arrived; while Dean had fought against the changes. Cas will always be more beautiful than Dean in Dean’s personal opinion; Dean di-

“What’s going on in your head, sweetheart?”

Dean looked away from the bathroom mirror and met Cas’ eyes; his heart skipped beats. Cas leaned against the frame, he looked amused and concerned.

“Just thinking about our eyes. The kiddos got me thinking about it again.”  _ Don't tell Cas you're thinking negative thoughts, don't tell Cas you’re thinking negative thoughts. Don't te- _

"Stop thinking negatively. I love you and keep falling in love with you, even after all these years together; especially after everything we've been through. I love your eyes, I loved them when I saw them when they were vibrant and I love them just as much, if not more, as their mossy green now." Soft thumbs brushed Dean's cheeks, just under his eyes. "It’s okay love, you don't need to cry. But if you feel that you do, that's okay too."

Dean sniffled, tries to suck the tears back up into his eyes. Cas always seemed to read his mind, must still have angel stuff or he’s just that close to Dean. "I'm good, is it time for bed?"

Humming softly in response, Cas guided him to a little seat they kept in the bathroom and had Dean sit. "It's time for our bedtime routine. Let's wash our faces." Secretly, it was Dean’s favorite part of the day, Cas gently smearing cleansers and creams on his face. Massaging them in, exfoliating, sometimes doing masks, and letting Dean unabashedly stare into Cas’ eyes. 

Cas cleaned their faces of the last step (a mask tonight) and applied a gentle moisturizer. “Let’s brush our teeth while that dries down.”

And finally, when that’s done, Dean gets a little forehead kiss that melts him a little, he’s helped up and guided into the bedroom and tucked in. Cas follows suit.

“The kiddos in bed already?”

Cas is slipping into sleep, “Yes, it’s fine, they weren’t any trouble. Do not feel bad, I won’t have that.”

“Okay, Cas.” Dean kisses Cas’ nose and his eyes open.

Their kids always talk about their beautiful eyes.

How right they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! I get inspired by fics I read and this was inspired by a series where Cas is a single parent to Claire and starts to date Dean. Claire and Cas have this elaborate (to me) skincare routine that they get Dean into. I love it so much, it's from the 'Family of Three' series by ArielAquarial. Check it out!
> 
> Foll- I mean bug me on Tumblr/Twitter to finish this damn thing: @ismiratriforce  
(Yes, I changed my Twitter handle and it now matches across the two platforms!)
> 
> Also, if anyone has advice on how I can hurry this along or around this, please, I'm begging you. Help me.


	3. Day 3: Royalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dropping days 2-5 today (Oct. 25th), congrats, short notes!

In Dean’s eyes, Cas was royalty. His crown was his hair, his jewels were his eyes, and he liked the color royal blue. All that combined with his sometimes holier-than-thou attitude equals royalty if you ask Dean.

Besides, Cas framed in fall colors and the leaves on trees made him feel like he married royalty. Which makes Dean royalty too, apparently.

This causes Dean to spend a few months making a crown for Cas. It takes him a while because of his hands and finding materials, but Sam helps when Dean thinks his hands won’t make it. And that one time when Dean called in near tears because he couldn’t find this important stone he dropped on the floor and he couldn’t bend over to try and look for it. ( _ I need someone young and spry like you.  _ ** _Oh, yeah. Cause you’re so fucking old._ ** )

Dean experimented with metals, some were heavy and he didn’t want to keep lifting them. But after some research and questions to experienced metalworkers, he found a lightweight metal that worked with his limitations. He thought about doing gold or bronze in terms of color, however, it didn’t feel right with the colors in Cas’ eyes so he focused on more silver and platinum colors.

As for structure, Dean wanted it to feel steady and sturdy, what Cas is for him, but he wanted fragile filigree and places for small jewels to rest. He also wanted a small chain to go across the forehead to give the illusion of a circlet.

Dean carefully, slowly draws blueprints, pages upon pages of blueprints. He wanted perfection because it’s the only thing that he’ll give to Cas. Then he painstakingly takes months to finish, working slow and steady to avoid mistakes. 

In the final weeks, Dean’s hands give up the ghost and he has to call Sam for help. They’re sore, cramping, and he can barely move them, he’s not trusting them near Cas’ crown. He hovers over Sam as he’s working, guiding him through the project; while Sam is alternatively trying to get Dean to sit the fuck down, ‘this is why you’re in pain, jerk.’ Surprisingly, Sam knows what he’s doing and does it well.

Finally, in early October, the crown is finished. It’s perfect and exactly what Dean wanted. When he presents it to Cas, Cas is thrilled and tells Dean he did an amazing job.

“Look at it! I’m so proud of you, you worked very hard and it shows!” Cas immediately places it on his head, then smiles wickedly. “I have something to show you, my honeybee.”

Cas guides him to their room and has him sit on the trunk at the foot of their bed; while he walks over to the closet and gets some boxes out. “I find it interesting that you made a crown, Sam and I made crowns for all of us, but he told me not to make one for me, weird. Now, I know why!”

Dean peeks in the first box and sees a golden crown with green jewels and diamonds; the sticky note next to it says ‘Dean’ in Cas’ neat handwriting. The other boxes have a circlet for Claire, a tiara for Emma, and a crown for Jack. Dean feels a lump begin forming in his throat, this is why Cas is amazing.

A nose gently bumps Dean’s jaw, nuzzling into him; Dean leans into it.

“Happy Halloween and spooky season, my King and my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like crafts and creating things. This was all I could think of, but I love it. I can see them being a royal family for Halloween, God, it's beautiful.
> 
> Bug me on Tumblr/Twitter: @ismiratriforce


	4. Day 4: Books

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still dumping fics into this fic fire, *peace sign*.

Cas doesn’t read by the book, he reads by the fucking pound and their study is nearly fucking full. 

Excuse the language, but Dean just wants a place for his freaking books for the love of God, wait, don’t excuse the language. The thing is, they’re Cas’ books and Cas has the preference of a flat pancake, i.e. it’s fucking everything. There are romance books that have questionable reasons to be in a house with kids (he means himself partially because he opened one to a random spot and stumbled upon an unorthodox shower) because, and he quotes, questionable reasons. There’s lore books, mythology, self-help books, textbooks for every subject under the fucking sun, picture books, kid’s books, poetry, fiction, non-fiction, craft books, DIY/How-to, and art books; you name it, it’s somewhere, good luck finding it. There is no system, no categorizing, no Library of Congress Call Number, no Dewey Decimal, no Colon or Universal Decimal Classification, or any kind of classification system and Dean is tired of finding Cas’ racy romance books surrounded by fucking _Winnie the Pooh_ books or some shit like that. (_The kids could grab it, Cas!_ **_Oh, like they'd be able to read and understand it, Dean!_**_ Hey! Don't use that I'm-an-angel-you-ass tone with me, mister!)_

But he hasn’t told Cas yet that he’s going to rearrange the books to make life a little less stressful. For Dean at least.

So, when Cas walks into the study and finds Dean moving books around, the only reason he came into the study (wasn’t to go read, shocking) was because he heard Dean huffing and puffing and books falling, he realizes that maybe he should have used some sort of cataloging or classification system. Dean must not be having a good day because he’s got his cane, is sweating pretty good, and his hands look swollen and shaky from the doorway. Some books are stacked, by the subject it seems, but some look like they’ve fallen on the floor. 

“Uh, sweetheart?” Dean stops his shuffling journey to the picture book stack while holding a few picture books and looks up to meet Cas’ eyes. "Are you organizing the books?"

“Um, maybe? I keep finding your, uh, heh, romance novels in the kid’s books and I figured you wouldn’t want the kids reading it, so. I thought I’d organize it.” As they’re talking, Cas can see Dean’s body begin to settle, he leans heavier on his cane and the books in his hand start sliding.

“Dean, hand me the books and sit down.” Cas steps forward and gently takes the books from him, offers an arm. Dean sighs and places his hand on Cas’ forearm, holding it as firmly as he can; leans a little into Cas. Cas guides him to an armchair they have in a corner and supports Dean as he sits down. “You should be taking it easy today, let me do this.”

“I had it under control, you don’t have to do this.” Dean looked around the stacks on the tables that he had organized by what subject they were. Cas seemingly didn’t know what that was. “I can do this, I don’t need help. But are you going to actually organize or are we going to have your original organization system?”

_ Oh, shit _ , Dean thinks,  _ I’ve done it now _ .

Cas slowly pivots from the stack of picture books to look at Dean and raises an eyebrow. Dean at least has the wherewithal to look sheepish and blushes while he slides down in his chair, mumbling “Sorry,” as he hunched a little in the chair. Cas smirks and picks up the ottoman, setting it in front of Dean. 

“Put your feet up, love. So you can dictate and supervise me. We’ll organize this.”

Dean beams and puts his feet up. 

_ Perfection in a bottle. _

Cas kisses his head and goes back to the books and beginning to organize the shelf.

Cas knew Dean would like to supervise while sitting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love to read and I fucking L O V E libraries. I work at the one at my university. I'm posting while I'm at work, but don't tell anyone. Shush. It's why I know about library classification and catalog systems. Academic libraries tend to use the Library of Congress and public libraries tend to use the Dewey Decimal System. The more you know! (Psst, I'm in America if you're confused. Still confused? Ask me in the comments and I'll respond!)
> 
> Poke me with a fucking stick on Tumblr/Twitter: @ismiratriforce


	5. Day 5: Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dancing* Last fic post for today-HEY! I feel bad, I'll get there, sorry.
> 
> Edit: oh Lord, I'm rereading this and keep having to edit, pray for me.

Sometime in July, the whole family went down to California to visit Sam and his family before they moved up to Washington to be closer to Dean. Sam was legally and officially married to Jessica (_ Just call her Jess, Cas! _), but they were in some form of a committed relationship with Gabriel, Eileen, and Rowena too; Cas really understands it, but Dean just sees they all love each other and just goes with it. They live together and do other stuff together, they’re happy about it. As long as they’re happy, treating each other well, and their kids are happy and loved, Dean’s more than happy to accept their relationship. Sammy’s happy and no one is hitting each other - maliciously.

Anyway, Cas surprised Dean and the kids with a trip to visit the aunts and uncles down in California and maybe Disneyland, Sam’s fucking loaded and was thrilled to get some tickets. The kiddos were on break and Dean wanted to get out of the house, Cas had work so who watched the kids? _ Please pray for Dean. Fall needs to fucking hurry up. _

Dean really wanted to drive Baby down, she doesn’t get driven long distance much anymore because Cas worries about the Impala’s safety in car accidents with three kids and the love of his life. Besides, Dean was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis a few years ago and it really hasn’t gotten any better, so Baby’s seats aren’t comfortable on long trips for Dean. For starters, Cas has never seen Dean, or anyone for that matter, use a seatbelt in Baby; he will go to the grave still calling that a safety hazard (_Haven’t died yet! _ ** _Au contraire, love, you have._ ** _ .....In the car, I haven’t died! _ ** _Hmm, what about that one time with your dad and Sam....?_ ** _ One time, but it was outside the car. And I almost died. _ ** _Mhm._**), but Dean won’t wear a seatbelt in Baby. Says it ‘ruins the aesthetic.’

Sure, if your aesthetic is dying in a car accident and leaving a widower and three kids or severely injuring yourself more; giving yourself more disabilities. Go ahead, Cas will watch.

First car Cas got, the only time it wasn’t a Dean approved vehicle (before and after purchase), was a Dodge Ram pickup truck. Cas loved it; it was his. Great for hauling stuff and great for when they wanted to go fishing or do something in nature. The only issue is that Dean has difficulty hauling himself up into the cabin. His hips are generally bad and have given out when Dean would go to put a leg up to get in the cabin and his truck doesn’t have a footboard for Dean to step onto. Cas did buy a little foldable two step stool for Dean, but they don’t use the truck often. After that fiasco of a vehicle, Cas decided to be funny and surprise Dean. 

He got an Impala. But it was a newer one (newer to them, it was a used 2014) that had comfy seats. Dean didn’t want to use it at first (_It’s the principle of it, Cas! I’m not cheating on Baby!),_ but it made sense in the long run and was comfortable for Dean.

When Jack came along, the car wasn’t the most ideal in terms of the backseat; well, none of their cars were, so Cas got an SUV. This time Dean helped him find the car and they settled on a nicely taken care of Chevy Equinox that wasn’t too hard for Dean to get into.

Anyway, in July, they drove down and spent two weeks with Sam and Co. before helping them pack up for the move. The first week they stayed in Disneyland in a hotel (remember, Sam has made the good bucks) and they had a hot tub. Dean nearly cried when he sat in it for the first time. His rheumatologist had recommended warm water therapy, so, back home, Cas had filled stockpots, the only thing Dean’s ginormous feet could fit in, with hot water and added Epsom Salt to it and they helped his feet. They did have a bathtub for Dean to soak his whole body in, but it’s a shower/tub combo and Dean is not a short human. His shoulders are pretty bad sometimes and no matter how much he wiggles, he can’t get them underwater while comfortable. 

So this hot tub was a gift from God. The water was up to his chin and Dean was fucking here for it.

“Sammy, you’re a fucking genius. God bless the Moose of California.” He’d mumbled from the corner of the tub Cas had dumped him at. Sam had looked at him amused (_A__MOOSED! _ ** _Dean, please._**), then he got that glint in his eye; Dean was too far gone to really notice it. But everyone else did. Disneyland is rough as hell when your body is basically Steve Carell yelling no when your kids want to every. damn. thing. It’s rough as hell even without arthritis.

This is why, a little after the library incident, (Dean’s still having pretty bad days), Dean actually cries over something. Sam, the kind, compassionate, elusive moose, had taken it upon himself to get his big brother a custom hot tub to use at home. Although Cas’ job provides a great salary (with good benefits) and Dean has a good amount of savings, they didn’t feel like they should drop that amount of money on a hot tub, especially one that could meet Dean’s needs. 

But, when Sam rolls up with a truck that has a hot tub in tow and says happy anniversary you fucks, Dean does cry. He’s still getting used to people giving him nice things and people helping him, still getting used to the idea that he deserves nice things. 

Dean hears Cas whispering in his ear, “You deserve this, you’ve given so much to everyone. You deserve to get something in return. Let someone care for you once in a while. Let them give you this. You deserve it so much.” 

Dean stood from the porch swing to go down the steps, leaning on Cas heavily; he’s crying the whole way as he walks to his brother. Still crying as he tips sideways and falls into Sam’s hug.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to, thank you. God, this is too much, thank you.”

A big, warm paw runs across Dean’s stiff, bouncing shoulders, the other at his back holding him up. His face is pressed into Sam’s chest (_ Wow, that is built. How firm? _), tears and snot soaking flannel.

“I wanted to, needed to. You deserve this, you deserve more. You’re welcome.” The hand shifts from Dean’s shoulders to the short strands at the base of his head; squeezes his neck gently.

Cas joins the hug by placing his hand where Sam’s hand was with his own, rubbing warmth into Dean’s spine. In a minute, Cas supports one side and Sam the other, leading, guiding, supporting Dean up into the house. Like they and everyone else does too, despite Dean not being completely used to receiving love - he knows he is well taken care of.

And later, when the hot tub is installed and Dean is sitting in it with Cas, Sam and Co. making supper and distracting kiddos; yeah, this is good. This is right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not how well this fits into the October/Water prompt, but I try. Also, the part about Dean sticking his feet into a stockpot with warm water and Epsom Salt is a thing that happened to me! I'm a tall woman (6'1"/1.85 m) and I wear a Woman's size 10 in the U.S. sizing and when I went to Alaska over the summer, my feet got bitten by some bug or spider thing. My feet swelled like crazy so we tried soaking them in warm water and Epson Salt and by the end, I was sticking my feet in a huge stockpot because it was about the only thing I could stick my plank-sized feet in. I have good foundations. Also, my feet are fine now! Though one ankle swelled up on the flight home, which was weird, but it's the ankle I've sprained twice so *shrugs*.
> 
> I did some research into Rheumatoid Arthritis (i.e. I read the Wikipedia page) and among other things and warm water therapy is a real thing for patients and some doctors recommend using a hot tub or a jacuzzi. Some saying with supervision and if they can afford it, a personal one to avoid contamination from other people's germs. So I thought that would work for the prompt!
> 
> Come stab me on Tumblr/Twitter, I won't mind: @ismiratriforce


	6. Day 6 - OOTD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot about this chapter! I'm sorry!!! See the next chapter for more notes!

“I swear, if you put that on Cas, so help me God.”

Cas looked up from their coat closet, looking like a kid in a cookie jar, like Jack last week. In his hands, he held one of his tan trench coats, but not the one Dean likes.

“What?”

“The frumpy one? You have one that fits better! It even has flannel on the underside of the collar! Put that one on.” Dean firmly believes that the flannel should make it the only trench coat that should be worn.

Dean and Cas stared at each other for a bit, then Cas squinted.  _ Oh, hell. I’m done for, _ Dean thought.  _ Ooooh, here comes the head tilt. Shiiiiit. _

Cas just stared at him, flaring his nostrils minutely. “And who are you, King of Flannel, Cardigans, and Sweatpants, to lecture me about what I wear?”  _ Oh, the comebacks are good this season _ , Dean’s mind whispered.

Dean gasped dramatically and clutched his collarbone (where his pearls would be). “Cas, I have reasons, like, oh I don’t know, arthritis!” 

Ah, a fair point. Dean spends most days in sweatpants and t-shirts. If he gets cold, he throws on oversized soft cardigans or worn-out flannels. It’s great for Dean because everything is fairly easy to get on, no necessary buttons or zippers, just slip on - slip off. Everything is soft and comfortable; and Dean can go from the bed and into the day, all without having to change! It’s honestly a win-win situation.

“I know you wear jeans sometimes.” Dean only scoffs at Cas’ retort.

“Yeah, when I go outside. Into the real world. Dude, come on. I barely leave the house.”

...

“Cas, love? Why are you looking at me like that? Stop smirking and looking like you have an evil plan. Cas. Stop it.”

Three hours later, Dean finds himself sitting on a cushion in a hay wagon with his family. He’s wearing a long sleeve shirt, a buttoned-up flannel (that of all people, Jack had helped him button it up (why you might ask, because Cas said he had to learn how to button properly)), and blue jeans Cas helped Dean get into; all that underneath a winter coat and a pom-pom hat. Well. Cas helped him into everything, Dean’s shoulders have been so stiff lately, to the point it often hurts to move them, and if that isn’t enough, his hips have been so bad lately that Dean’s falling down while trying to put sweatpants on. But, he’s out of the house, it might be the first since July, and he has real shoes on, not just slippers. And what if Cas had helped him into socks and shoes, even tying them for him?

It’s worth it. He gets to watch his kids and his nieces and nephews experience a hayride for the first time, other times he’s been in too much pain (one time he was in the hospital) and he gets to see Sam and Co. all dressed in matching fall sweaters and hats. 

The face he gets from Sam when the camera flashes (and gets in the photo) makes it even better.

“Dean! Did you take a photo?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I love this chapter, how did I forget about it! Ah!
> 
> Come punch on Twitter and Tumblr!: @ismiratriforce
> 
> Check out winchester-reload on Tumblr!


	7. Day 7 - Battered & Bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm so deeply sorry that I didn't finish in October, but I don't want to leave this unfinished! I've really hit a good spot in writing this right now and I'm excited for the coming chapters! Today (11/5/19), I'll post two chapters, days 7 and 8. I'm still writing!

They need to figure this shit out and figure it out fast.

Everyone knows Dean is in the middle of a bad flare-up and that the inflammation in his joints has gotten worse too. What no one knew was that he had bone density loss as a result of the chronic inflammation and his bones were becoming thin and brittle. Which meant that falls could cause bones to break with how weak his bones were.

Lately, Dean’s been falling when lifting his legs to put pants on, but every time it’s happened Cas has been there to catch and/or help him, he fell onto the soft carpet (and maybe his bones weren’t brittle enough) they have in the bedroom, or he’s fallen onto their bed.

This time though, Dean fell in the kitchen, where the floor is hardwood. And no, he wasn’t putting pants on, no matter how many times Sam snickers and asks.

But he fell (Cas wasn’t nearby, the kids were), having tripped over his own feet ( _ postural instability _ , Cas remembers), and dropped his cane and the plate of Mickey and Minnie Mouse pancakes he barely had a grip on. Dean tried to catch himself with an arm (instinct) but he really only landed on the side of his hand and wrist, then it gave out. Of course, his hip and knee slammed into the floor and his shoulder; really, it was all a big disaster. Oh, and in Dean’s opinion the kick in the teeth is his face kinda landed on his cane and now he has a black eye.  _ My charming looks, Cas! How can I flirt with you now? _

The kids are still scared. Claire ran to get Cas from the study where he was doing some work, he’d never seen their brave Claire so scared before. Emma had left Jack with Dean and gotten the landline they kept in the kitchen to call 911. Cas thinks Dean told her to, he didn’t lose consciousness, thank God. Cas stayed with Dean until they put him in the ambulance. He called Sam and he put the kids in the car and met Sam and Co. at the hospital.

Now, Dean’s wrist is in a cast, having broken his hand and wrist, his knee has stress fractures so that’s in a brace, and his hip is pretty bruised. Luckily, the places where he has the most bone density loss is his hands and knees, but everywhere else isn’t too far behind. The plate with the pancakes had flipped up and landed on his head, then smashed to the floor and shattered. Dean has a small laceration on his forehead that now has butterfly bandages. They worried about a concussion, but he didn’t show very many or severe symptoms and never passed out. Though he did demand if Cas had made the kids’ replacement pancakes for the ones he dropped, demanding they get breakfast.

Cas brings him home two days later in a temporary wheelchair with strict orders from the rheumatologist to stay off his feet for a little bit and to not walk without human assistance as well as to avoid stairs as much as possible. 

Needless to say, Dean is not a happy camper. Ever since his diagnosis and the subsequent decline of his health, he has always wanted independence. Now, one fall has temporarily taken it from him. The other issue is that Dean is the main cook; sure, Cas can cook, but it’s Dean’s food that gets the kids running to eat. 

But that’s fine. Dean can sit and bark orders at Cas to get meals done. It’s nice, not having to cook for once. Though Cas sometimes gets absent-minded when cooking and Dean would rather face Hell than giving his kids burnt pancakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was a kid, we would go grocery shopping on Fridays and we would eat in the restaurant there. I absolutely adore pancakes and would always ask for Minnie Mouse pancakes and they would make a Mickey Mouse head and make a bow on top with two slices of bacon and make a face with whipped cream I believe. I'd happily eat it with a lot of syrup, which I still do eat pancakes with a lot of syrup. It's one of the most favorite memories of my childhood, even though it was most often with my dad I had these pancakes.
> 
> Come hate me on my Twitter and Tumblr, I deserve it! - @ismiratriforce
> 
> Remember to check out winchester-reload on Tumblr and JackieDeeArts on Instagram and Twitter I believe!


	8. Day 8 - Vices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably my best chapter so far in my opinion and the most emotionally heavy, I think. I literally just wrote in a day because I had a lot of time (cheers) and I think it's so good.

If he’s being honest, Dean used to be an alcoholic, barely a functioning one at that. He went cold turkey when he and Cas got together, stayed sober through all his kids, and plans to stay sober until he’s six feet under.

Everyone has vices, their own cross to bear; Dean’s just happened to be rough. Cause he didn’t drink just for the fuck of it.

He started drinking when he first got a fake ID when he was 19, something one would expect of a college kid, but Dean never went. He didn’t go to bars - he went to liquor stores, bought booze and spirits, went home, to friend’s houses, to parks, and got drunk. He didn’t drink to just drink, to be social, to rebel.

He drank to forget. To forget what happened to his mom. To forget that he had to protect Sam from his dad. To forget that his dad hit him, broke him. To forget what he had to do to pay bills, get clothes for Sam, get food on the table, to fucking live. He drank to calm down, to stop the lump in his throat and chest, to not panic when a burly man would yell, laugh, or, hell, walk by him. To forget that he had nothing to live for and a shitty, deplorable conditions factory job that was barely worth the money he made. To forget that his brother was in California, though he called weekly, in a university they couldn’t afford without a full-ride scholarship; that Sam worked a job in the library for pocket change. He just wanted to forget.

There was a break in the drinking. The factory shut down when he was 26, having literally partially collapsed while Dean was leaving work. No income, no money, what do you do? Dean signed up for the army, doesn’t remember how, but he did. And the shit he saw there?

After serving overseas for two tours that amounted to about eight years (with the last one, he was kidnapped), he was done. He was having panic attacks and then failed a mental/psychological evaluation and was medically discharged. He had VA assistance, but it wasn’t the greatest, but he had applied for USAA. He never went to a therapist. His dad would’ve thrown a fit if he hadn’t wrecked his truck while Dean was gone.

He came back and things had changed. Nothing was left for him in Lawrence, so he went to Sam for a bit, then California was too much. He left for Washington, the farthest Sam would let him go. The drinking picked back up again.

Now, he also drank to forget what he saw in the army. 

Then, one day, he stopped randomly in a bookstore. He bumped into a man with blue eyes and wild hair. Dean knew he was bisexual, hell, everyone did. And damn, that man had Dean wanting to be sober. His name was Castiel, but Dean had said I’ll call you Cas if that’s alright.

He was a professor at some university for some program and he wore blue ties with trenchcoats. They kept meeting randomly, then Cas gave Dean his number, they starting dating, and Cas helped Dean to go to rehab before they moved in together. He got Dean to go to therapy, to a veteran support group; and Dean wanted to do it. He had something to live for. He got diagnosed and terms that helped Dean understand himself and helped Cas know what to do to help.

He was sober for four years when Claire happened and he vowed to never touch alcohol again, he had a family to look after. He stayed sober when he was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, even though he had and still has a lot of pain. By the time they were finished having kids with Jack, Dean had been sober for eight years, when Sam moved closer, sober for 14 years. Now, Dean plans on being sober until the fucking grave. He’s better now, he’ll have urges of course, but he’s not the terrified Dean of his past. He knows to ask for help, he knows he will be fine.

The only vice Cas had was biting his lips and picking at his nails; Dean was fine with that. Dean had the troubled past down pat and it was enough for both of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy it and let me know about it in the comments (I sound like a YouTuber *shudders*)! I know very little about being the army, though I did a little research, and I know nothing about alcoholism. The main inspiration for this was from various fics I've read in the past and the latest album from The Lumineers, III. Go take a listen, it's amazing to listen to and the story behind it is so good.
> 
> Come find me on Twitter and Tumblr: @ismiratriforce
> 
> Don't forget to check out winchester-reload!


	9. Day 9 - Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm deeply sorry that it's now fucking December. I never meant to do this to you or myself. I'm debating on stopping here or finishing and was wondering what you thought - please let me know! Also, if you don't like implied/mentioned mpreg, sorry for that as well. I didn't know how else to write. I also updated the tags because I realized Ruby was in the massive multi-tag and I'm pretty sure I didn't write her in. If I did, I'll add her back in. I'll also add the implied mpreg (which this may be the last time I mention it) so if anyone doesn't want to read that, it'll be excluded in the ao3 filters. By the way, happy holidays? I will probably also change the title to something witty like, "Suptober 2019 (and some change)" or "Suptober 2019 that goes into November. And December. And January at this rate." I'll try not to end up in January, luckily, break starts after next Friday (Dec. 13, currently Dec 6) and lasts a whole month. I should definitely have the time. Yay!

The word baby is many things to Dean, it could never mean one thing to him.

The first time Dean used ‘baby’ for a person was when Sam was in Mary’s womb. He learned it when he pointed at her stomach and asked what his parents meant by he has a little brother in her. They explained that a baby boy was in Mary’s stomach, and when he would be born, Dean would be a big brother.

Dean remembers marveling at the new definition for this word, the meaning behind it. A meaning that meant protect, guard; this ‘thing’, this baby is something to look after and care for. A meaning that was pounded into him the second his dad set baby Sam in his arms and told to run out of his burning home. A home his mother didn’t follow his dad out of. Now, ‘baby’ was the only word that Dean said for awhile. Crawling into his brother’s crib at the motel after the fire, he always whispered, “Hey, Baby Sammy.”

The next time he used ‘baby’ for a person was when he met Cas. God, there was something about him that filled Dean up and made his heart explode. He let the endearment slip when they hit the one-year mark after he left rehab and came home. It was the first of a long list of names they called each other. But that word has a special place in Dean’s memories, the look Cas gave him when he let it slip is something he could never forget.

To him now, ‘baby’ means love, caring, and the love of his life. A name he thinks is almost holy and sacred, something that means more than what the dictionary says. Something whispered from his mouth when Cas gets dressed up or on their wedding day, “Oh baby, look at you.”

Then, ‘baby’ for a person got another meaning, his babies. Not just anyone’s babies, no. These were Cas’ and his babies. Babies Dean carried like his mom, babies Dean breathed life into. These are people Dean would die for, he would do anything for them - anything. 

Like getting up at 3 am because one has a stomach ache and since Cas has an early class the next day, meaning that Dean was the one getting the kid to the bathroom. Though, that became difficult so they just camped out beside the toilet. And since the kid kept throwing up into the day, Dean got stuck, literally. At least Cas got the other two to school, but then Dean and his kid ended up passing out in between puking moments so they never left the bathroom. By the time Cas came home, Dean was stuck on the ground leaning against the wall, no joke - Dean was physically unable to get off the ground. But it was for his kid, and Dean would never regret that, ever. 

Or that one Friday when Dean legitimately fucked his knee and shoulder up because the kids wanted to play soccer and when Dean decimated his knee running (well, attempting to - amazing things you can do while on painkillers) and having a ball hit it. Right after Dean got an ice pack for his knee and a lawn chair to sit in, they decided (Dean never decided) to play catch. Yeah, repeated throwing with one shoulder, owwww. Then Dean got another ice pack, then he and the kiddos got a weekend of video games, movies, and TV shows in bed, so that was nice. Quality time with the family is the best way to spend time if you ask Dean.

His doctor wasn’t thrilled and didn’t think it was nice, but anything for his kids, anything at all.

Of course, baby didn’t mean just people. No, baby meant more than a person.

Baby is the 1967 Chevrolet Impala that’s sitting in their garage that he got from his father, the only thing from his father that he doesn’t hate or feel like it’s a burden. But Baby is also another home and the memories of his dad careening them across backroads, state to state as kids. Baby was where he nearly died when he was 24 when his dad drove drunk and missed a semi in the intersection, Dean nearly died because his dad very nearly beat him to death before John realized that maybe he should his oldest to the hospital. Dean doesn’t know if Sam knows that part, but Cas does. Dean is thankful every day that when John died while he was overseas was with a truck, not Baby; grateful his babies will never meet the fucking son of a bitch.

Baby has always been more than a word to him, and forever it will be more than ‘baby’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? Do you hate it now? Won't blame you. 
> 
> I've been in a rut lately. Someone left a comment on my longer fic that made me feel bad because they didn't like it. Which, is fine, speak your mind. But please be mindful I'm not a writer for Supernatural and this is a fanfic, as well as an Alternate Universe (so is my other one), so if they seem OOC, it's because this isn't canon. But it's how I wrote it. Also, that's the first fic I've *ever* published and this is my second, so if it's rough, that's why. Sorry if I seem ranty, I've just been a little unmotivated since I saw that comment. Also, I'm not going to delete it. I always stand by my truth (dear God, I'm a booty guru) and I feel I won't be truthful if I can somehow remove that comment.
> 
> Anyway, *flips hair*. Don't really have any inspo for this so here's my gift to you. *whispers* It's a piece of shit, tbh.
> 
> Come sucker punch me on Tumblr/Twitter: @ismiratriforce

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave me feedback to feed the creative monster in my head that you might call a brain! Honestly, I get an email *any time* someone bookmarks, kudos, or comments on my work; and I look at every single one because it still blows my mind that y'all like my work! So please leave some sort of response (comments might be best because I want to hear from you guys!) as it's honestly one of the reasons I keep writing and posting on here. 
> 
> Bug me on my tumblr/twitter! @ismiratriforce  
(Please be my friend)  
GO FOLLOW winchester-reload THEIR ART IS AMAZING!!!!!!! THEY ARE SO NICE!!!!!!!! I STILL HAVE NO CLUE HOW TO LINK IN THE NOTES SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME!!!!!!!!!!


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